Page 5 of Snowbound Regency Christmas
The other horse thrashed about, but the road was too icy to attempt raising the animal. It kicked slower and slower, resigned to its own fate, as other wagons and vehicles piled up behind the mail coach, with the post-chaise blocking the entire road in both directions.
Hours passed as carters and drivers milled about, then retreated to their own vehicles to wait. The sisters whispered among themselves, Egg Lady slept and Andrew shivered. Worse yet, Andy felt his still-shrunken stomach growling. He possessed no warmth or strength to deal with this, except he knew that he had to.
Something worse happened, something unexpected. His ordinarily rational mind, used to hardship, suddenly yanked him back to that hated prison, where he recalled one awful night. The most sadistic of their keepers left a plate of roast beef and buttered bread outside the grate where prison food was usually shoved in. They saw and smelled the food, but could not reach it. The memory became reality again, rendering Andy nearly helpless.
It became too much. His remembered trauma landed him back in prison. A wooden door in his mind swung shut, as it had two years ago. To his horror, he began to weep. ‘I’m sorry,’ he gasped between bouts of tears.
Escape. He had done it once before. He tried to leave the coach. Instead, he dropped to his knees and fainted.
He came around quickly enough. Egg Lady held him tight, right there on the floor of the coach. ‘What has the war done to you?’ she murmured, as Pretty Lady wiped his forehead. Good God, how could he besweating? But he was.
‘Food. Anything,’ Andy managed to say. ‘I’ve been a prisoner of the French. It’s hard…can’t explain…so hungry.’
‘No need to explain,’ Egg Lady said. She handed him half a loaf of bread. ‘An egg,’ Andrew urged, ‘please,’ appalled that he sounded like a beggar and not a sailing master, respected by captain and crew.
She dug a little well in the loaf, cracked in two raw eggs, and held it to his mouth. He swallowed the eggs and chewed on the bread until he felt rational again.
He sat back, still in Egg Lady’s embrace, and spoke to Pretty Lady. ‘I spent the last two years imprisoned in Spain, courtesy of the French,’ he said quietly. ‘Cold. No food. I thought I was done with that ordeal, but it came back now. Forgive me.’
‘There’s nothing to forgive,’ Pretty Lady said, her eyes kind. To Andy’s both relief and humiliation, she took charge. ‘I will see what we can do. Stay here, Ben,’ she told the boy. ‘Bess, stay inside. We can’t have you falling.’
Andrew heard her talking to the coachman, who stuck his head in and explained their situation. ‘Air’s warming a tad, sir. All it takes is a little degree or two. No snow now. We’ll be moving eventually.’ He shook his head at the post-chaise stalled in front of them. ‘Poor horses. I treat mine better.’
Egg Lady tried to straighten up. ‘Ooh, I’m not used to this. Old bones.’
‘Let me help you.’
Pretty Lady was stronger than Andy would have thought. She helped him to his seat first, then guided Egg Lady back to her place. She calmly took charge.
She seemed to understand Andrew’s embarrassment. ‘I’m certain your trials outweigh any of ours. I can do this.’
He saw only concern on her face. ‘I am Sailing Master Andrew Hadfield. I should have stayed in hospital.’ That sounded stupid, but his well was dry.
‘I’m Rose Harte. This is my sister, Bess Wilkins, and her Ben. Let me help you.’
‘I’m so ashamed.’
‘No worries, sir.’
Andy wanted the bottom to drop out of the mail coach, and the road to open and swallow him whole. Instead, he listened as the sisters conferred.
Bess whispered to her son, who seated himself next to Andy. ‘Now, sir,’ Bess said, ‘I am going to wrap your cloak around you both. Ben is chilly. You can keep each other warm.’
Andy’s arm went around Ben, who smiled at him and snuggled close. ‘There you are.’ She looked at her sister, standing in the coach door. ‘What now, Rosie?’
‘I have an idea.’
She was gone only a few minutes. When she returned, her cheeks were even rosier. If he hadn’t felt so useless, Andy knew he could have enjoyed the moment. Rosie, she was.
‘Here’s what I did, sir,’ she said to him. ‘The post rider has removed both horses. He still has two, of course. I petitioned ourcoachman to ask the post riders with the chaise if they can take you to Endicott with them. Since this is a mail coach, our driver must make two stops before we get there. The chaise will go straight through, even with only two horses.’
He wanted to tell them he could manage, except that he knew he couldn’t. ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘So kind.’
The wait continued. Ben was a warm little furnace, as Bess predicted. Andy’s eyes were closing when the mail coachman opened the door a crack. ‘Sir, that post-chaise is free now. I will ask the occupants if you can accompany them as far as Endicott, where there is a good inn.’ He brightened. ‘I’ll tell ’um you are a sailor what kept blokes like us safe from the Frogs. We’ll see.’
In minutes, their coachman returned, angry. ‘The post rider agreed, but his passengers won’t hear of it. “A sailor might murder us for our money,” that wretched woman said!’ A muscle in his jaw worked. ‘They’ll be gone in a few minutes, and good riddance. We will get sorted out soon. I’m sorry, sir. It’s a slow ride for you, after all.’
His glum expression nearly broke Andrew’s heart. ‘I am sorry you had to ask.’ He looked at the goodness around him. ‘I’ll manage. I’ve had some food.’
